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Welcome to Mother/Gamer/Writer for the Blood Life Blog Tour! Today we welcome author Gianna Perada to the blog with a guest post titled “Do you believe in ghosts?” Also, Gianna is giving away an eBook to one lucky person at this tour stop! So check out her guest post, a haunting excerpt from Blood Life, and don’t forget to add it to your shelf at Goodreads.
- Title: Blood Life
- Author: Gianna Perada
- ISBN-13: 9780985567002
- Publisher: Bright Eyes Press
- Publication date: 4/20/2012
- Pages: 328
- Find It: Goodreads / Amazon / B & N
Blood Life is a vampire/witch thriller full of blood, magic, love, violence, and sex. The witches and vampires of the fictional world of the Spectrum have united and created a race of half-breeds called the Combined. These are very powerful entities, but their race has been threatened by a rogue vampire with very old, powerful blood named Lokee, son of the Great Witch, Devendra. This story is about letting Fate play out, but in all its turmoil, trying to save one woman who will be the key to saving the Combined.
Can the Combined’s strongest adversary form an army to defeat them, or will the power of three keep the race on top? Centered around the lives of four integral characters, Blood Life is a fresh and unique paranormal adventure. Meet Devendra, a powerful witch descended from one of the first lineages; Lokee, her son and worst enemy; Roman, her friend and companion; and Alethea, the key to it all…
Blood Life is a full-length paranormal horror novel that will appeal to lovers of paranormal, dark fantasy, horror fiction, witches, vampires, and supernatural horror.
Do you believe in ghosts?
I love the idea that we are not alone. And I don’t mean aliens, although aliens are cool, too. I mean ghosts, spirits, beings, guardian angels, apparitions, entities, orbs, whatever you want to call them; I love them. And I completely believe because I’ve had experiences throughout my life that have proven to me that they exist, and if we allow ourselves to see them, we just might.
So, I thought it’d be fun to share one of my encounters with you. Hopefully it will open you up to do the same here and not be afraid to comment on what I’ve shared.
When I was 10-going-on-20, my parents left my brother in charge of me while they went out on the town for a date night. My brother was kind of a rebellious brat and took off with some friends instead, leaving me home alone! But, honestly, I didn’t mind. I just locked myself in tight and decided to take a bath, listening to the TV in the background.
While I was in the bathtub, the TV volume shot all the way up. The really eerie thing was that this was back in the early 80’s. We didn’t have a remote control. You had to physically turn a knob on the TV to turn it up, and that particular knob made a lot of static-y noise while it was being turned up—which it did! I sat up wide-eyed for a moment, deciding what to do. I slowly stood up, gathered my robe, and ventured out to investigate. I was a pretty brave little kid. There I stood defiantly in my parents’ bedroom in front of the TV, just staring at it, feeling the baby hairs on the nape of my neck rising and the skin on my back crawling. It was not a welcoming feeling, and the room seemed to close in on me a little. I realized I was scared, truly scared because I could feel something in the room with me, and it didn’t seem friendly or welcoming.
I backed away from the TV and onto my parent’s bed. That’s when my brother came home. I was so glad to see him. I told him what happened and he tried to convince me I was imagining things. I explained the knob and the volume and all that, but he shrugged it off and went to bed. I promptly followed him.
As I lie in my own bed, with the sheets up to my nose, still feeling uneasy, I looked at the open doorway to find beautiful, Victorian-looking men and women waltzing by my bedroom door! It was incredible. And soothing. I must have watched this go on for an hour before I heard keys in the front door. My parents had returned, and the beautiful “friendly” ghosts ceased to dance down our hallway.
To this day, I’m not sure what that was all about. The dancing figures were beautiful and warm and left me with a sense of serenity. They were not threatening at all; however, the force that turned up the TV was, because my intuition reacted very differently. What do you think? Was my house truly being haunted that night by two sets of entities, or was it just a girl alone at home with a vivid imagination . . . and mild telekinesis?
“Sleeping Lyca lay
While the beasts of prey
Come from caverns deep
View’d the maid asleep.”
The channel seemed deeper, the troughs and rivets in the road more treacherous. Every rushed step seemed more dangerous and awkward. The city, with its dark gray ceiling, closed in around him and shoved him through the atmosphere. Mud clumped against his boots and his shirt had reached the frail point of hanging off his shoulders as he fell through his doorway.
The odor of the room reached him as he was rising from his knees. A solid, coarse smell that relentlessly tortures the senses; the rancor of fresh blood overwhelmed him.
“Alexandria,” her name rang out, yet he did not realize he shouted it.
The exhaustion of the clamor brought him to rest against the wall in the hallway. Her name rang out from his throat again, still uncontrollable. His vision was stolen to a mass on the floor in the sitting room. What used to be a wonderful, skilled woman, of witch’s blood, lay unmercifully dead.
Roman covered his mouth, sweat beading along his forehead, and walked in to get a closer look. Elizabeth was stripped; scratches and bruises covered her body. It was the position of her body that told him a rape had taken place before her death, or maybe after.
He lifted her blood-drenched hand to find her forefinger absent. A broach of Amethyst that her mother had given to her before she died, sat quietly in a puddle of bile and saliva in front of Elizabeth’s open mouth. Roman backed up the way he came, sick with fear and denial. He could not bring himself to look away from her petrified eyes, open and locked on his.
Sliding down against the wall, Roman fell into view of the bathroom. Laughing, taunting voices filled his head. He frantically looked around to find nobody there. The pure ivory basin and polished marble floor were now a reservoir. The wooden shutters with broken glass allowed lines of light to seep through, revealing small portions of the red coating on the floor and walls. Overflowing, trickling droplets down the side of the basin were streams of liquid life; but through Roman’s eyes, they were signs of Alexandria’s death.
His first step came out from under him, as his body was crushed across the room and against the basin. Already weeping and shaking his head to try to shut out the voices, he lifted his eyes over the rim to find Alexandria’s lifeless body.
Complete, haunting, silence.
Streaks of her blood marked the wallpaper: four lines, two intertwined and braided down the middle with one straight on either side of the formation.
Marked, he thought as he ran his fingers along the gashes, smearing the blood. He dropped to his knees beside the tub, reaching into the water to collect Alexandria into his arms. He pulled her to him, sobbing, suffocating himself in the tender flesh of her neck.
“NOOOOOO!” he screamed to the ceiling. “WAKE UP!!” He pinched himself, finding no satisfaction; he beat his own head against the tub, trying to beat himself out of the nightmare, the trick.
He found himself outside the house aimlessly searching the surroundings with blind eyes. He held fast to Alexandria, carrying her with him. The weight pushed him back down to his knees. He looked up and saw the sky revolve and twist. He witnessed no Gods above him.
“Have the ethereal angels been lost,” he cried at the top of his lungs. “Can you strike me down, or have you lost your lightning arms? Now I am truly here to stand against this term of mortal torment alone. I have lost my will to live!” Gravity brought him face down. He protected Alexandria’s limp head from the dirt.
“There is no one left to heal this hideous wretch, nobody to choose my mortality. Oh, if I could free my soul from this pressing time of mourning, if I could drop my aegis and expose my heart, there would still be no God to take its rhythm. Who would allow this withered corpse to fall into the covenant of the earth and join my Alexandria?”
He laid her body down softly in front of him. Smoothing her hair back, he kissed her eyelids, closing them to give her peace.
A strong, masculine hold pulled his head from her chest.
Reluctantly pulling his grasp from his love, Roman stood up. Swaying on his feet, he tilted his head down, unable to look away from Alexandria’s unmoving form.
Slowly, he convinced himself to lift his eyes and study the force that had demanded his attention. He found himself staring into the face of the woman from the pub. Her velvet garments were whirling and enraged.
“She is just resting . . . isn’t she?” His words tore at the woman, her face grew darker and she reached out to take his hand.
He snapped his arms away as she did. “You filthy witch—” his voice couldn’t unleash the rage in his heart, “—I’ll burn you!”
He lunged with all his might, only to land at her feet. He turned and scrambled back over to Alexandria, protecting her from the woman.
She stood, frowning down at him. “You would be mad to try.”
“Her blood—” he gathered her body into his arms again, holding her out for the woman to view, “—you drained her blood . . . you took her from me.”
He found himself choking on tears again as he lay on the ground and pulled Alexandria on top of him, cradling her to his chest.
“No, not me,” the woman answered solemnly. “Lokee took her life; I am your protector, but I could not save her. If I left you, you would have ended up as Alexandria is now. Don’t you dare blame me! I, Devendra, have been with you.”
Roman looked up at her, surprised by her name and familiarity. Devendra leaned down and took Alexandria into her own arms, carrying her away.
Roman jumped up, following her to a grove of redwood trees not far from town. The walk seemed to take hours, as he fell countless times, weeping and unable go any further. Devendra urged him on, promising a light at the end of his tunnel.
Moments later, they reached a bed of roses, fresh and at full bloom. Devendra laid Alexandria down on them, murmuring a soft, sweet prayer, then with a thrust of her hand, ripped open the Earth and lowered Alexandria’s body down into it—safe to rest in peace.
Enter Through The Widget Below
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© 2012, Diayll – MotherGamerWriter. All rights reserved.
Latest posts by Diayll – MotherGamerWriter (Posts)
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